


That's All I Need

by Spooky_Spooks



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991), Brother Bear (2003), Disney - All Media Types, The Jungle Book (1967), The Lion King (1994)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Disney, Drama, F/M, Gen, Humor, LGBTQ Character, M/M, Multi, Romance, Slice of Life, no magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2020-03-06 22:08:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 5,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18860083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spooky_Spooks/pseuds/Spooky_Spooks
Summary: After the death of Mufasa, his loss is felt throughout the town of Priderock, even by those who did not know him. Soon, peoples lives are affected by his loss in ways they could never have imagined, changing their lives forever.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fanfic I originally wrote on Wattpad. If you'd like to support me and my writing there as well, feel free to check me out there @SpookySpooks13 (Layne).

_The newscast switched from the weather to an onsight broadcast, where a saddened reporter stood before the sight of a car crash. Despite the heavy rain, the flames still flickered at the front of the car, which had wrapped almost completely around the telephone pole. Fragments of the shattered windows were strewn about the road, and the doors had been violently flung open by the first responders who could be seen lifting a stretcher with an injured woman into an ambulance. Off to the side, another pair of first responders could be seen zipping up a body bag._

_"Tragedy has struck the town of Priderock tonight when a horrific car accident led to the death of local CEO and philanthropist, Mufassa Jones," the reporter paused before continuing. "The accident has also placed his wife, Sarabi Jones, in critical condition. Thankfully, their son, Simba, was not in the vehicle."_

_As the reporter continued on to explain the potential caused of the accident and give well-wishes to the family, the television was switched off._

_"I believe I owe you my congratulations and condolences," suggested one man, his voice a deep British baritone. "Your plan seems to have gone swimmingly, my dear Scar."_

_The other man, Scar, chuckled in response. "Your congratulations come early, Kahn. I still have to take care of the brat."_

_Kahn scoffed. "That should be simple, he's a child after all."_

_"Simple indeed." Scar chuckled, sounding both gleeful and sinister, causing Kahn to let loose a chuckle of his own._


	2. Chapter One

Lumiere, busy with preparing the kitchen and its staff for the dinner rush didn't notice Plumette's entrance until she tapped him on the shoulder. Startled, he quickly spun to face her, his face breaking into a bright smile when he recognized her.

"Plumette! What is it, mon cher?" Lumiere asked, seeing the look of worry beginning to form on her face.

"Adam said he was coming in today, didn't he? Before the dinner rush?" She replied, biting her lower lip.

Lumiere paused to think for a moment, then glanced at the clock. "Oui, he was supposed to be here half an hour ago. Has anyone called him?"

Just as Plumette opened her mouth to respond, Adam walked into the kitchen looking grief stricken. Seeing this, Plumette and Lumiere rushed to his side as he hung his coat on the hook next to the door of his office and sat at his desk.

"Mon ami, what's happened?" Lumiere asked. "You look heartbroken."

"I suppose you wouldn't have heard the news," Adam sighed, it was a heartwrenching sound. "There's been an accident. Mufassa passed away, and Sarabi isn't doing much better."

Plumette gasped, tears already welling up in her eyes. Lumiere wrapped his arms around her in comfort, though he appeared just as forlorn as she. As the pair did with everything else in life, they shared each other's grief. Mufassa and his family had been regular customers of the restaurant, and dear friends with everyone who worked there and the loss of them was almost like that of a family member.

"As if that wasn't horrible enough, poor Simba has gone missing as well," Adam continued, nearly in tears. "As you can imagine, Belle is quite distraught. Simba was one of her favourites."

"That's horrible," Lumiere replied, at a loss for words.

"Belle is currently working on getting a search party together, and I was planning on taking part," Adam explained. "After I put up a poster in the front window. I'm sure most people know what Simba looks like, but it can't hurt."

"Please let us know if there is any way we can help," Plumette replied, wiping her tears.

"Oui, we're here to help," Lumiere agreed. 


	3. Chapter Two

Bagheera sighed as he opened the door to their apartment and set his bag on the side table next to the door.

Hanging his coat up on the hook, he called out to his roommate. "Baloo?"

"Makin' dinner, Baggy," came the reply drifting down the hall from the kitchen, along with the pleasant smell of whatever Baloo had decided to make that evening. 

Bagheera made his way to the kitchen, raking a hand through his hair as he went. When he reached the kitchen, he was greeted with the sight of Baloo hunched over a pot on the stove, humming to himself and stirring to the tune. Bagheera walked up to his roommate, hugged him from behind and nuzzled his face into the back of Baloo's shoulders. 

"What'd you make?" He asked, voice muffled by Baloo's shoulder.

"Butter chicken," Baloo replied, "you sounded like you could use some comfort food when we were talkin' earlier."

Bagheera gave a dry chuckle. "What would I do without you?"

Baloo just laughed and shook his head. After a moment, Bagheera released Baloo from his embrace and turned to set the table, only to find it had already been set. His face broke into a grin and he turned to face his roommate once again.

"Baloo, when did you become so responsible?" He joked. 

"Oh no, that's your job, remember?" Baloo replied with a laugh as he set the food on the table. "Just thought you could use a break is all."

Bagheera's grin morphs into a fond smile as the pair sit down to eat. For a few precious moments, they remain silent letting the sweet, domestic nature of the dinner sink in. Baloo was the first to break the silence, though it didn't puncture the moment.

"How was the rest of your day Baggy?" 

"I'm sure you heard about Mufasa?" Bagheera sighed. "It's a horrible loss, not just emotionally, but on the centre. We rely primarily on funding so that we can offer services at a lower rate for low-income households. We don't know if we're going to keep receiving that funding."

A look of sympathy crossed Baloo's face. "Aw, don't worry Baggy, it'll work out fine."

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, that's what Pumbaa keeps telling me. I don't think he worries enough! Perhaps that's why he does so well with the children."

Baloo laughed. "Pumbaa! I haven't seen him in a while, how's he been?"

"Oh, you know him, still spouting that 'Hakuna Matata' nonsense," Bagheera replied. "He's still convinced Timon will come around to the idea of adoption."

"Of course he will!" Baloo smiled. "You've seen how happy he looks watching Pumbaa with the kids."


	4. Chapter Three

It had been a few days since the death of Mufasa, and although Simba had not yet been found, life had more or less returned to normal in Priderock. While many were still grieving with the loss, many had remained virtually untouched by the tragedy. Timon and Pumbaa were two such people.

Currently, the pair were sat in the living room of their shared home watching movies together. Pumbaa lay against the arm of the couch with a near-empty bowl of popcorn on his lap and his right arm slung over Timon's shoulders as the smaller man leaned into his side. Through the open window, their small yard could be seen, empty aside from a small bird feeder. As the movie continued to play in the background, Timon yawned and snuggled closer to Pumbaa, only to immediately sit straight up as his gaze drifted to something out the window.

"Those grackles are back!" He snapped, standing up quickly. "Come on Pumbaa, we gotta scare 'em away."

"But I thought we wanted birds at the feeder?" He replied, pausing the movie and moving the popcorn to the table before following Timon to the door.

"Not those ones," Timon grumbled. "They scare all the other birds away and eat all the seeds!"

"Oh, okay," Pumbaa shrugged.

The pair walked into the yard, yelling and flapping their arms in the general direction of the grackles, laughing as they flew away. 

"That'll teach 'em," Timon chuckled, dusting imaginary dirt off of his sleeves and turning to go back indoors.

Pumbaa didn't follow him, something in the corner of the yard had caught his eye. It looked as if there was something sticking out from underneath the overgrown garden at the edge of the yard. He began to walk towards it, stopping when he got close enough to see the slow rise and fall of the thing's breathing.

"Timon," he called back, not taking his eyes off the breathing thing under the bush. "Come look! I think it's alive!"

Making a disgusted noise, Timon walked towards the bush. He lifted up a branch to get a better look, only to jump back in shock. 

"It's a kid!"

At this, Pumbaa moved closer. "He's just a little guy. We should take him inside, he could be hurt."

"He could be rabid!" Timon argued, earning an eye roll from his companion. "Okay fine, we'll see if he's alright."

Pumbaa gently picked the boy up and together the pair walked inside to take care of the child.


	5. Chapter Four

Bagheera sighed as he watched yet another person pass by without giving anything more than a look of pity. After Mufasa's death his brother, Scar, the new head of the company had decided to pull out of funding the daycare. This lead to several problems, as that funding was required to keep the hourly rates at a price that the families with lower income could afford to pay. Because of this, Bagheera and Pumbaa had to think of ways to raise money or find new sources of funding to fill in the gaps, which had proven to be no easy task. 

Their current (and hopefully temporary, Bagheera noted) solution was a bake sale, in which they hoped to earn enough to keep their prices as low as they were until they could get funding from another source. Thankfully, they were placed in a relatively high traffic area between the elementary school and one of the towns main streets, allowing them to set up their bake sale just outside the centre. While Pumbaa was inside watching some of the children and helping them to decorate various baked goods, Bagheera was outside with some of the older children, running the bake sale.

While Pumbaa had somehow managed to maintain his no worries attitude through the whole situation, Bagheera couldn't help but stress. Things were not looking good, the bake sale had not been making nearly as much as they had anticipated, and they seemed to have little support from the community, making things less promising. 

Just then, Bagheera was broken out of his thoughts when a van boasting the elegant logo of the local French restaurant pulled into the small parking lot. The van had barely parked when Lumiere and Plumette stepped out, each carrying a container of their own baked goods from the restaurant. 

"Belle and Adam send their love," Lumiere said with a smile as the pair got closer.

"We all want to help in whatever way we can," Plumette added as she set down her container on the table. "We have a donation box at the restaurant, and Adam's working on a poster for the window."

Bagheera was stunned by the unexpected kindness. "Thank you, this is truly greatly appreciated."

Lumiere made a gesture as if he was waving away the idea like an annoying insect. "No, no. It's nothing, I will hear none of it. We're simply helping a friend."

Plumette nodded her agreement. "Don't worry about it. You and Pumbaa do so much, it's time somebody gave back."

As Plumette and Bagheera continued their conversation, Lumiere turned to one of the children. "If I was going to give one of these treats to someone special, what would you recommend?"

The child, a young native boy, appeared to think hard on the subject. After carefully examining the deserts on the table, the boy pointed to a small plate of what appeared to be small, heart-shaped pastries, filled with cherry filling and lightly dusted with sugar. "One of those. Hearts are for special people."

Lumiere smiled. "I agree. Thank you..." He trailed off, realizing he didn't know the boy's name.

"Koda," the boy replied, putting emphasis on each syllable. "Ko-da."

"Thank you, Koda," Lumiere corrected, paying for two of the small pies with a warm smile before walking towards the school. "I'm sure he'll enjoy them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who are curious, the small pies I described, as well as other tasty sounding baked goods can be found here: https://www.bettycrocker.com/menus-holidays-parties/mhplibrary/seasonal-ideas/best-bake-sale-recipes


	6. Chapter Five

Cogsworth had barely finished the lesson when the bell rang. As usual, every student had already rapidly vacated the classroom before he was able to remind them of their homework. He doubted that it would have mattered, they weren't going to do the homework either way. With a sigh, Cogsworth began to tidy his desk before going to the staff room for the lunch hour. However, as he moved to leave the classroom, the phone on his desk began to ring. 

"Yes, Pleakley?" He answered, noting the receptionist's extension on the call display. 

"Cogsworth! So glad I was able to catch you before you went for lunch!" Cogsworth nearly cringed at the almost impossible cheeriness of Pleakley's voice. "There's someone here at the office for you!"

After a moment of surprise, he was able to get out a reply. "Thank you, Pleakley. I'll be there shortly."

After a quick goodbye from Pleakley, Cogsworth hung up the phone and made his way out of the classroom. As he made his way through the halls, he thought on this odd occurrence. Not only could he not think of any of his friends visiting him at work, but he also was unaware of any visiting family, making things even stranger. Typically, Cogsworth would frown upon such unprofessional behaviour, but at the moment he was far too curious to feel any anger. As he continued on his way, he puzzled over the identity of the mystery visitor, his answer being revealed as the front office came into view.

Standing at the desk and chatting amicably with Pleakley was a tall man, with a slight build. Had Cogsworth not immediately been able to recognize the man from his dramatic mannerisms and strong French accent as he spoke, he was certain the man's characteristic red-blond ponytail or radiant smile would certainly have given away his identity.

"Lumiere?" Cogsworth stammered. "What are you doing here?"

"Cogsworth, mon cher!" Lumiere's smile widened as he turned to face Cogsworth. "I came to see you and I brought a gift."

Cogsworth directed his gaze to Lumiere's outstretched hand where he held a small box containing two heart-shaped pastries. Cogsworth immediately felt his face flush as he managed to force out a reply. "Thank you. Let's continue this meeting in my classroom."

Somehow, Lumiere's smile brightened at his words. "That sounds lovely."


	7. Chapter Six

Timon and Pumbaa stood in the doorway to their living room, staring at the sleeping child draped across their couch in confusion. 

"He doesn't seem to be hurt," Timon stated, after a long silence.

"Just tired," Pumbaa replied. "What do you do when you find a lost kid anyway?"

"Put up a poster?" Timon suggested. "That's what you do for missing animals."

"So we make a poster and keep him until his parents find him?" Pumbaa asked.

"No of course not, that's ridiculous!" Timon began to laugh before a look of inspiration crossed his face. "I know what we'll do! We'll put up a few posters and keep the kid until his parents find him!"

Pumbaa gave a puzzled look but was interrupted by the stirring of the sleeping child as he woke. Slowly, the kid sat up and rubbed his eyes, giving a small yawn. Then taking in his unfamiliar surroundings, he began to grow anxious. 

"Where am I?" He asked, spotting the two men in the room.

"We found you outside," Timon started. 

"How do you feel?" Pumbaa finished.

"Fine, I guess," The kid shrugged, looking alarmingly gloomy. "I should go."

"Hey, hey," Timon quickly rushed to sit the child back down. "Where're ya going kiddo? We'll give you a lift so you get there safe."

"I dunno," the boy shrugged. "I can't go home."

Timon and Pumbaa shared a worried glance. "Why not?"

"I just can't," he snapped, then seeing the shocked and hurt expressions on their faces added, "I don't wanna talk about it."

"Then how about you stay here with us," Pumbaa suggested. "That way you're not all on your own."

The kid nodded hesitantly. 

"What's your name, kid?" Timon asked.

"Simba," The boy stated plainly. "Do you have anything I could eat? I'm pretty hungry."

"Yeah, I'm sure we've got something lying around," Timon replied. "How about you go get cleaned up, and we'll get you something to eat."

The kid seemed to perk up at this and rushed into the bathroom the instant the directions were given. Meanwhile, Timon and Pumbaa were in the kitchen, not nearly as happy with the situation. 

"Pumbaa, what were you thinking?" Timon hissed, as he took to leaning against the counter while Pumbaa looked around their small kitchen for something to make. "We can't just keep the kid!"

Pumbaa gave a small frown as he began to wash vegetables for a salad. "You heard how he reacted when you suggested we bring him home. I just didn't want to bring him somewhere where he's getting hurt."

At this, Timon's expression softened. "I don't want to either, but I don't think we're ready to raise a kid Pumbaa."

Pumbaa rushed across the room to Timon, taking Timon's smaller hands in his own. "I know you're worried you'll turn out like your uncle Max, but I know you won't," Pumbaa gave him a soft smile, and Timon felt his heart melt slightly. "Hakuna Matata."

"Hakuna Matata," Timon replied, giving a soft smile of his own.


	8. Chapter Seven

"What's Hakuna Matata?" Asked Simba, who by now had finished washing up and had followed the sound of their voices to the kitchen.

"It's our motto," Pumbaa replied, giving the boy a cheerful smile before turning to grab the salad he had prepared.

Simba tilted his head to the side, his brow wrinkling in confusion. "What's a motto?"

"Nothing, what's  _a motto_  with you?" Timon replied, laughing almost excessively at his own joke, causing Pumbaa to laugh as well. "It means no worries."

"Oh, okay," Simba shrugged, sitting down at the table and eagerly devouring the salad placed in front of him. 

After the boy had eaten, they managed to find some spare clothes that almost fit him, and tucked him into the spare bedroom for the night. After they were sure he was sleeping, they retreated back to the living room to finish their conversation.

Plopping down on the couch with a tired look on his face, Timon sighed. "What are we gonna do Pumbaa?"

"We're gonna take care of the little guy," Pumbaa replied.

"I know that," Timon huffed. "I mean, do we call the police? What if someone's looking for him?"

Pumbaa began to worry his lower lip. "I dunno, Timon. It seems like his family wasn't very nice to him."

Timon tensed. "That's not what I meant." Taking a deep breath he continued. "What if he's got other family? Like an uncle or aunt or something."

"I guess," Pumbaa replied, still sounding uncertain. "I just don't want him to be put right back in a bad spot."

Timon's expression softened into a fond smile. "We're not gonna let that happen, I promise."

"Hakuna Matata?" Pumbaa asked quietly as if it was a secret for just the two of them.

"Hakuna Matata," Timon replied, taking on the same intimate tone.

 


	9. Chapter Eight

Scar sat at his desk, facing the large window overlooking the city and examining his perfectly maintained nails. Although he had wanted the title and power of CEO for quite some time, he was beginning to dislike the actual running of the company. Instead, he thrust that responsibility almost entirely onto Zazu, the assistant that had been working alongside Mufasa before Scar had organized the crash. While Scar wasn't particularly fond of the man, he did see where he could have his uses, and so he would stay until he had exhausted his usefulness. His musings were cut short by a knock at the door.

"What is it now?" Scar drawled, spinning his chair to face the door with a dramatic flourish. 

"The police department just called," Zazu replied as he entered the room, looking the closest to happy he had been since Mufasa's death. "They think they may have a lead in Simba's case. They want you to go to the station and confirm."

Scar did his best to hide his discomfort as he answered. "That's positively wonderful. You may inform them I will be there as soon as I am able."

Zazu only looked uncertain for a moment. "Of course. Hopefully, this lead will allow the police to return Simba safely."

"Agreed," Scar stated, restraining himself from rolling his eyes as he stood and grabbed his coat. "I shall be out of the office for the remainder of the day. I expect you can take care of things on your own?"

"Of course, sir," Zazu replied, as Scar left the office.

Scar had barely managed to dampen his fury to a containable level by the time he had reached the police station. Where his underlings not even competent enough to dispose of a child on their own?

When he entered the building, he was immediately recognized and escorted to Detective Hati's office. The tall and broad man who sat at the desk was beginning to look worn from his many years of service, however, he still worked just as impressively as he had for all of his careers.

"We think we may have found the boy," Hati reported, as he shook Scar's hand and invited him to take a seat in front of the desk. "Two gentlemen found him last night and phoned in first thing this morning. They claim he calls himself Simba, judging by the photograph they were able to provide, he looks identical to your nephew. However, according to them, he was unwilling to come to the station."

Scar was taken aback. He had told them to kill the boy, how could he have been found alive? Luckily, Detective Hati seemed to have taken his stunned silence to be produced by joy.

"Here is the photo if you'd like to confirm it is him," Hati replied, passing a photo over the desk. "We just want to be sure before we make any moves to bring him home. The two that found him have offered to bring him here should he be your Simba."

Scar glance at the photo in his hands. The red-blond hair and golden brown eyes were unmistakable, especially when partnered with such a similar bone structure to his father. This was definitely a photo of Simba, a recent one too if the deep loss in his eyes was anything to go by. 

"This isn't Simba," Scar lied through his teeth, his anger at his underlings only growing with each passing moment. "Though he does bear an uncanny resemblance."

"A-are you sure?" Hati stumbled over his words, the shock written clear on his face. "Perhaps you need to see him in person? From my understanding, the photo was taken on a cellular phone, and could simply be a low-quality image."

"Oh no, I couldn't," Scar did his best to fit the role of a mourning family member. "Seeing a child so similar to my beloved nephew would simply be too much to bear."

"Of course," Hati replied, taking back the photograph and tucking it neatly into a folder on his desk. "I apologize. I'll keep in touch if we find any further leads."

Scar thanked him and left the station, managing to contain his fury until he was in his car and speeding away. As he sped off down the street in the direction of his penthouse, hissing at his phone to dial Shenzi as he went.


	10. Chapter Nine

After his last class of the day, Baloo made sure all the instruments and music books were where they belonged. With a quick look at the sign-out sheet, he was able to confirm that all instruments were accounted for. After making sure everything was locked up accordingly, he walked through the halls, humming a tune and walking with a bounce in his step. Waving a quick goodbye to Pleakley, he stepped out into the parking lot and began to search for the car he and Bagheera shared. 

Bagheera had called Baloo earlier that afternoon to inform him he would be coming home later than usual due to a situation at the centre. While he didn't share any of the details, Baloo could still hear the strain of hiding intense emotion in his voice. Naturally, Baloo decided to do what he could to improve Bagheera's mood. The best way to do that, he decided, would be with a meal from Bagheera's favourite restaurant and a surprise visit from Baloo. A quick drive and chat with Plumette later he was pulling into the center's parking lot.

As he walked in, he saw that Timon seemed to have a similar idea, as he walked in with a large paper bag. What drew Baloo's gaze, however, was the small figure that followed Timon across the parking lot and held the door open for him. When the small figure noticed him, he waited to continue to hold the door but ducked his head as Baloo approached as if trying to hide his face. 

Baloo chuckled. "Don't you worry little britches. Ol' Baloo ain't gonna hurt ya."

He reached out to ruffle the boy's red-blond hair and was surprised when the boy rushed to hide behind Timon, nearly knocking over the lanky man in his rush.

"Hey, slow down kid! You're gonna take somebody out," Timon began to lecture, only to pause at the kid's frightened expression. "It's alright kiddo, nobody's gonna lay a finger on ya while I'm here."

The boy just nodded but stayed quiet.

"He's a bit skittish," Timon explained, using one hand to gently rub soothing circles on the boy's back. "We think his family might have...ya know."

Baloo felt his heart clench at the thought of what Timon was implying. Before Baloo could figure out how to respond, Pumbaa came out of one of the back rooms, and the boy ran straight to him. With an exchange of sympathetic smiles and quick goodbyes between them, Timon followed the boy and the trio disappeared. Giving his head a quick shake to recover from their interaction, Baloo continued on to where he knew Bagheera's office to be, raising his hand to knock, only to stop at the sound of voices behind the door.

"We just don't know what to do anymore," a woman's voice stated. "We don't want to tear him away from everything he's ever known, but what else can we do?" 

"I know it can be difficult, but you have to consider what is best for the boy," replied a voice Baloo recognized as Bagheera's. "If his family is willing to take him in, it may be best for him to be with them."

"What if they decide not to take him in?" the woman was beginning to sound upset. "We can't provide for him much longer and we can't just send him off into the system."

"We'll do our best to find a willing foster family within city limits," Bagheera replied. "But you should prepare for the possibility that we may have to send him elsewhere if it's what's best for him."


	11. Chapter Ten

When Plumette entered their shared home she was greeted by the smell of a home-cooked meal and the sound of Lumiere not-so-quietly singing to himself drifting from the kitchen into the entryway. Smiling to herself as she removed her shoes and hung up her coat before making her way down the hall to the kitchen. 

"The date went well I take it?" She asked, watching him flit around the kitchen in his favourite frilly apron.

"We're getting coffee on Saturday," Lumiere replied with a smile. "It'll be our first date in public."

"I'm happy fo you two" Plumette said, beginning to set the table. "It's good he's beginning to warm up to having a more public relationship."

"I'll be able to walk arm-in-arm with my petit ami soon enough," Lumiere singsonged as he placed the meal on the table.

Plumette chuckled, and the pair fell into a comfortable silence. As they were finishing their meal, they began to chat once again.

"Madame Adelaide came in for lunch today," Plumette said, "she says that Duchess and Thomas are doing well. We planned to bring Marie over for a visit this weekend, it should be good for her to see her parents."

Lumiere looked up from where he had been feeding Marie scraps from his plate. "That sounds lovely," he turned his attention back to the kitten at his feet. "Doesn't it, mon ange?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter felt like you waited forever to get pretty much nothing. I plan to write a lot more over the holidays, so hopefully, my muse has similar plans and I can give you guys something you can enjoy. I've mostly been absent due to my first semester of university hitting harder than I expected, but I think I'm prepared now, so next semester should be a little better. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and happy holidays!


	12. Chapter Eleven

"Ew! What's  _this_?" Simba pushed a piece of tofu around on his plate, looking thoroughly disgusted. 

"It's tofu," Timon replied, taking a bite of his own. "Listen, kid, if you live with us you have to eat like us."

"You'll learn to love it!" Pumbaa reassured. 

The boy looked at the pair uncertainly before taking a small bite. "Spongey, yet .... satisfying," he concluded before consuming his remaining dinner with fervour. 

After their dinner, Timon and Pumbaa remained in the kitchen to clean up while Simba went off to watch cartoons.

"This isn't too bad," Timon confessed as he put away the plate he had been drying. "I like having the kid around."

"I always said you'd like havin' a kid around," Pumbaa chuckled, handing him another plate to dry. 

Timon rolled his eyes, though the smile never left his face. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't let it go to your head."

                                                                                                   ***

That night, Timon was awoken to the sound of a quiet knock on the door. Rubbing his eyes and sitting up, he saw Simba standing in the doorway looking as if he was trying to make himself as small as possible.

"What's the matter, kiddo?" 

Simba remained quiet for so long Timon began to think he wasn't going to answer. "I had a bad dream."

Timon's expression softened. "How's about you sleep with us tonight? Mi Pumbaa, su Pumbaa."

Simba nodded and rushed over to wedge himself between the pair. After Simba had managed to fall back to sleep, Timon let himself relax and a small smile stretched across his face as the thought that a family may not be so bad after all drifted through his head. 

 


	13. Chapter Twelve

Shere Khan sat at his usual seat at the back table, hidden away from prying eyes. It was the ideal table, as it kept his identity concealed, yet allowed him to observe the other less than reputable bar-goers, always searching for something or someone to use for his own ends. 

This allowed him the perfect view to watch as Scar threw open the door, seething with rage, and stormed over to the now cowering, group of gang members. Several of them slinked off into the shadows, leaving three to stand alone against Scar's wrath. Two members of the trio had crouched as if to hide behind the pool table, only their heads could be seen, watching him approach. The third, a young woman who seemed to be the group's leader remained in her position of casually leaning against the side of the pool table closest to the door, though she did raise her hands in a gesture of surrender. 

"What part of 'take care of the boy' did the three of you not understand?" Scar growled, his hands clenched in tight fists at his sides and trembling with rage.

The young woman, who Shere Kahn knew to be Shenzi, gave a nervous chuckle. "What're ya talking about?"

"He's not supposed to be alive!" Scar roared.

"Oh! That boy," One of the other two, Banzai perhaps, pretended to be unaware. "Don't you worry about it, we can take care of him!"

The other, Ed, nodded frantically in agreement.

"If you know what's good for you, you will," Scar told them, glaring daggers at Shenzi. "You had better act quickly, no one can know."

With that last threat, Scar stormed back out of the building, shoving a lanky and jittery man out of the way as he went. The man flinched away from Scar before scampering away to Shere Khan's table.

"You wanted to s-see me?" The man, Kaa asked, hissing on the 's'.

"Yes, I wanted to ensure you were prepared," Shere Khan replied, ignoring Kaa's jitters and erratic behaviour. "You will need to act soon, all of the pieces are in place."

 


End file.
